You're Not Okay
by addietunaz
Summary: John's mom makes him move to live with his dad in North Carolina because he was being bullied. He hates his dad and wants to leave as soon as he can. But after John meets Sherlock, he decides staying doesn't seem so bad.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first Sherlock fanfiction I have decided to post. It is based off a dream I had and one of my best friendships ever. I don't know how long it is going to be yet, but please stick with me. Also they are in America and not England for a reason. That will be explained later though. Toodles! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

…

"I can handle myself mom," I said flatly.

"Well, according to this you obviously can't," She pointed at computer screen that held an email from my principal. The same email I had silently pleaded him not to send. It was a curt email about the bullying that had been going on with an attachment of recorded incidents. "You're going to move in with your father."

"But-" my father was the one man in this world I truly despised. He knew that he never listened to me, but always expected me to listen to him and take him and every word he said seriously. I had grades good enough to have a shot at doing what I really wanted in life, to become a doctor. He wanted me to waste my life away on what he considered a practical job, but I don't want to sit around everyday for the rest of my life working for some company.

"No buts. You are moving to your father's place and that is final," She walked out of the room before I could try to protest. I hated my school life her but I loved Chicago. Now I had to move to some crappy little town in North Carolina where my school life will probably turn out to be the exact same as it is here. I've never fit in and that wasn't going to change. I don't know why, but that is how it is.

…..

I sat on the bus. There wasn't even a goddamned airport in that town and my dad didn't want to drive here and get me or pay for a cab. The bus isn't even going all the way there. I'm going to have to sit in a car with one of his friends for an hour once I get off this bus. I would still rather stay in this cramped bus for hours than see my dad for 10 minutes. I knew the routine. He would lecture me on every small detail the second I got there then we wouldn't talk until he saw something else wrong with me. I thought about this until the bus ended up at my stop. When I stepped off I saw a strange looking man in a beat up car waving me over. I walked up cautiously. He didn't look very trustworthy. I raised my eyebrows at him until he spoke.

"Hello John. I'm your dad's friend, Carter," He said, sensing my uneasiness. I stepped into the car. I was too frustrated to question him further.

After what seemed like hours later, I arrived at my father's house. I can't imagine things getting any worse than that car ride, but at the same time I know they will. They defiantly will and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. Once I stepped out of the car and pulled my bags out the man just drove away. I'm not saying I was going to miss him, but I was hoping he would come in and distract my dad from me for at least a little bit.

"Well, hello Johnny," My father said as I walked through the door.

"Don't call me that," I replied. I didn't even want to look at the man. It was too stressful. I turned my back on him and started to walk in the opposite direction of him. After a few steps I felt his large hand on my shoulder.

"Where do you think you are going?" He said in his regular stern voice.

"My room," I said curtly before attempting to shrug his hand off.

"You don't even know where it is," He wasn't about to give up. I knew he wouldn't, but it was worth a try.

"I used to live here. I'm not stupid. I know where it is," I said letting the irritation in my voice show through. I tried to shrug him off again, but he just held on tighter. "Let go of me. I don't even want to be here, so just-"

"Didn't your mother teach you any better?" He snapped, cutting me off mid-sentence. "Also, would you please stand up straight?" He said it way more like an order than a question. That was also typical of him. "And is your mother really letting you wear those clothes?"

I took the opportunity to walk away quickly when he used his hand to gesture to my clothes. I heard him yell at me from where he was standing for me to come back, but I didn't turn around. Once I got to my old room and locked the door I looked around. It was just how I left 10 years ago, before my mother left him when I was a kid. Even the childish sport-printed curtains were there. The stuffed dogs hadn't even been touched. There was not-so-thin film of dust on every thing.

I yanked the curtains down, rod and all, leaving just the plain blinds. I removed the bedding and linin from the bed and replaced them with my own sheets and a few blankets that I packed just because I knew this would happen. After tearing the room up completely I threw all the old stuff in a pile to put it in the bin when dad goes to bed. I dusted everything down with an old shirt I found and finally hung some posters up. I didn't bother putting my stuff away. I planned on leaving here as soon as possible.

…

My plan was to simply not even look at anyone. Just mind my own business. Be invisible. When I walked into my first class I didn't even bother to introduce myself. I just quickly went to the first empty seat I saw. When I sat down I was greeted with a short wave and quick smile from a boy with disheveled brown hair. I wanted to keep looking at his blue eyes simply because they were the most marvelous thing I have ever seen. I snapped out of my daze and smiled back before looking back to the front of the class.

It was like that for nearly the entire day. He was in most of my classes. We had science, English, and math together. The only class he wasn't in of mine was History. First period the only seat available was next to him, but after that I purposely picked my seats to be next to his. I could have been my need to not feel completely alone or it could be that I am gravitated towards him.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I planned to upload this sooner but I am currently working on a project about the founder of eBay .

…

I sat on my bed thinking. Thinking about how my plan had already been soiled. The only thing I had told myself was not to interact with anyone. Even though it was nothing more than a few smiles and waves, I knew I wouldn't last very long without finding more out about him. He is fascinating. He sat in quiet while everyone else bounced around the classroom talking to each other. I couldn't see why anyone wouldn't like him. I didn't know him yet, but I still couldn't see how no one was even trying to talk to him.

I picked up the French fry on the plate next to me. Dad could have one of my favorite meals set up in the kitchen and I still wouldn't come. I was content with the small plate of food if it meant not seeing him. I put the fry in my mouth as my phone buzzed. When I picked it up it was just another text from my mother. I hadn't opened any of them so the screen read "Mom: 37 messages." I didn't need to open them. I knew what they were going to say. They would ask me if I was okay, how my dad was, and other things of the like. She knew the answers. The only reason she probably was probably texting me for was out of boredom. I sighed and put my mobile back on the bedside table and started counting the imperfections on the ceiling and walls.

…

When I looked at my paper at the end of class I realized I had only taken about a fourth of the notes and the rest of the paper, front and back, was covered in doodles. As I went to put the nearly useless paper in my folder, I noticed somebody in front of my desk.

"You can have my notes. I know it all anyways," I looked up to see whom the voice belonged to and it was the same boy from yesterday. He was the one who broke my plan into pieces, the one with the stunning blue eyes. He was holding out his neatly token notes for me.

"Ah- thank you," I said clumsily. Before I could ask his name, he was gone. I looked at the paper that was just handed to me. It had "Sherlock" and the date scribbled across the top. "Sherlock, that's a peculiar name," I said to quietly to myself. I tucked the paper gently into the pocket of my binder, away from my other papers which were slightly out of order.

…

I walked into my next class, English, just as the bell rang. I sat down in my seat. I was now even more aware of Sherlock's presence than I was the day before.

"What took you?" He said, smiling softly. Before I could answer, he had turned back to face the front of the class. While the teacher was still sitting at his desk, looking carefully at his computer screen, I scribbled a quick note. It read-

Do you want to hang out later?

-JW

I wrote my name, John Watson, in smaller handwriting next to my initials. I slid the note onto his desk. It wasn't long before I had one back.

I'd love to.

-SH

He did the same with his name and wrote it next to his initials. His name is Sherlock Holmes. I had an overwhelming desire to say it out loud, but I will wait until I'm not in class. I couldn't help the corners of my mouth from turning slightly upwards.

…

It seemed like class lasted longer than usual that day; the day altogether seemed dreadfully long, but as promised it eventually came to an end and Sherlock was waiting patiently for me to finish putting my stuff in my locker before we set off.

"Do you have something in mind?" He asked once my locker was shut. To be honest, I didn't even think to decide that. I was too concentrated on trying to make the clock move faster.

"No," I said when I couldn't devise an idea. I looked off to the side, slightly embarrassed and worried he would just leave.

"That's okay," He said with a smile. The same smile that nearly killed me the first time I saw it. It was amazing. "I know where we can go," He said after a moment.

…

Once we were outside I asked where we were going, but he said nothing. He just grabbed my wrist lightly and said "You'll see. It's this way."

I just nodded and sped up to keep up with him long strides. His long legs made it harder from me to keep up with him if I was walking at my normal pace, but he didn't seem to notice. After a moment I stopped to catch my breath. "Could you walk a little slower?" I asked.

To my surprise he slipped his hand from my wrist to my hand as he nodded. I could feel the heat rising to my face so I looked away. When I heard a soft laugh I knew that he had noticed. He pulled his arm to his side so I came closer to him. Now I wasn't walking behind him, but rather directly next to him. It felt nice in a strange way. I couldn't help but to think how odd it is that I can feel so uplifted just by being next to him. We haven't even had a proper conversation yet and I still feel like this.

The next ten minutes must have flown away in my thoughts, because after what seemed like a second he had stopped walking. I looked around. We were at a small clearing by a lake. There were trees blocking the view of the main road. From outside, you wouldn't be able to tell there was a clearing here at all, and from the inside, the road was practically invisible.

"Is this it?" I asked.

"Yes," He replied. Concern leaked over his face. "Do you not like it?" He looked towards the lake.

"No!" I said quickly. "It is amazing," I continued, more calmly. It truly is. Everything about it seemed unreal. I wanted to scream how much I loved it, but I defiantly wasn't about to do that. "How did you find this place?" I said, still amazed by it all.

"Well," Sherlock said, clearly pondering what he was about to say. "I guess I should fill you in," he paused "There are some things you should probably know," he finished after some thought.

I shifted my weight a bit. I wanted to hear, but I was unsure what to expect. He must have somewhat noticed my discomfort, because he sat down and patted the ground next to him. I took the gesture and sat down right next to him. I looked at him then couldn't break his gaze. Since I couldn't look away, I just stared into his eyes until he spoke.

"So," he said at last. He touched his pointer fingers together and sighed. I couldn't help the corners of my mouth turning slightly up. He was truly adorable and he probably didn't even realize it. He opened his mouth to speak and I could tell what he was about to say would be painful for him.


End file.
